


Get Our Story Straight

by Khashana, read by Khashana (Khashana)



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Also Bitty briefly, Epistolary, Fake Dating, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Outing, Podfic, Podfic Length: 45-60 Minutes, Podfic and fic together, Polyamory Negotiations, Social Media, Threesome (M/M/M), deadspin are losers, kent runs out of fucks to give, smart Scraps
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-13
Updated: 2018-11-13
Packaged: 2019-08-16 19:35:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16501433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khashana/pseuds/Khashana, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khashana/pseuds/read%20by%20Khashana
Summary: “They were both supposed to be pipe dreams!” said Kent, from his position sprawled out on the nearest bed with his arm flung over his eyes. “I never dared hope either of them might be interested. I was making out with a tall, dark-haired guy in a bar trying to getoverthem, notcreate a love triangle.”





	1. In Which Kent Doesn't Pick Up the Phone

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Arabwel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arabwel/gifts).



> Hello everyone, I adore every word of this so I hope you like it too.  
> Written for the Polya Epifest for Arabwel.  
> HUGE thanks to my super amazing artist Sophia. I am in absolute awe of the two pieces of art she drew for this piece.  
> Also many thanks to b_frizzy and believesinponds for beta work! The title is courtesy of RiotKid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Podfic](https://khashanakalashtar.wordpress.com/portfolio/keep-our-story-straight/)

# Bitty's phone, morning of October 27

  
  


|  Las Vegas Aces @LVAces 14h  
It’s always a good game when the @PVDFalconers come to visit  
105 679 5.8k  
---|---  
  
  
  


October 27, 2018

## KENT PARSON GAY?

## Jack  
  
---  
| is this you???  
...Fuck. |   
| that isn't an answer  
| Jack??  
| I’m not going to be mad if it is, we’re still friends and I can be happy for you  
damage control now talk later |   
  
## Tater  
  
---  
| is Jack ok?  
am doing what I can |   
| his anxiety must be going crazy  
| text me if there's anything I can do  
  
  
  
  


# Jack's phone, afternoon of October 26

### Twitter Mentions

|  @nerdflighter  
Alice Cooper  
Is that @jlzimmermann in that pic?   
---|---  
|  @worldsbestbug  
Ant Tna  
@jlzimmermann and @therealkvp  
|  @kristi0381  
Kristi Flowers  
@jlzimmermann was totally banging @therealkvp in juniors   
|  @hydrateordiedrate  
Tony Karlsson  
New OTP @jlzimmermann/@therealkvp  
|  @phoenixtawnyflower  
Phoenix Tawnyflower  
OMG that's totally @jlzimmermann  
|  @falcsfan1998  
Sarah Zimmermann  
No way @jlzimmermann would never do Parson   
  
  


### Instagram Notifications

|  corvidcrew mentioned you in a comment: is this a pic of @jlzimmermann??  
2m |   
---|---|---  
|  pollock, i-4owest, and 216 others started following you  
  
|  i-4owest, therealfairytrash, and 521 others liked a photo you're tagged in  |   
|  themethanesky mentioned you in a comment:this looks like @jlzimmermann  
5m |   
|  therealfairytrash mentioned you in a comment: me and @yantakey in our fave jerseys! still love @jlzimmermann even if he is sleeping with the enemy   
6m |   
  
## Kent  
  
---  
| Are you okay?  
| Kent?  
  
  


| jlzimmermann | ...  
---|---|---  
  
  
  
  
---  
Liked by corvidcrew, i-4owest, and 54,780 others  
jlzimmermann Proud to stand by kentparson90's side.  
View all 614 comments  
OCT. 27  
4:42  
---  
Saturday, October 27  
MESSAGE | 1m ago  
Shits  
JACK YOU BEAUTIFUL MOTHERFUCKER  
Press for more  
PHONE | 2m ago  
Bitty  
Missed call  
MESSAGE | 2m ago  
Bitty  
Hon are you trying to imply that it’s you in that photo or just showing support I honestly can’t tell  
Press for more  
PHONE | 3m ago  
Andrea from PR  
3 Missed Calls & Voicemail  
|   
MESSAGE | 7m ago  
Maman  
We've got your back.  
Press for more  
PHONE | 9m ago  
Maman  
Missed Call  
  
  
  
  


# Jeff's phone, evening of October 27

### Trends For You:

#parsonslover

|  Emma Gordon @therealfairytrash Oct. 27  
Who else thinks #parsonslover has gotta be @jlzimmermann?  
3 174 355  
---|---  
|  Grant Evans @suckmydopamine Oct. 26  
Look at the shoulders that's @jeffswoopstroy #parsonslover  
24 227 657  
|  Abigail Lafontaine @snowyparselover Oct. 26  
NO MY OTP #parsonslover #snowyparse  
1 19 63  
|  Rodney Smith-Jefferson @hfflpnk Oct. 26  
Replying to@therealfairytrash  
You've got it all wrong, there's no way @therealkvp and @jlzimmermann would hook up now, it's totally @jeffswoopstroy  
39 127 366  
|  Kim Weaver @acesgurl34 Oct. 26  
I will go down with this ship #parsonslover is @jeffswoopstroy  
1 305 659  
|  Van Helsing @redneck-dracula Oct. 26  
hey #parsonslover is fun to speculate about but maybe stop tagging the players? keep real people out of fandom spaces about them 2k19  
3 21 82  
|  Daniel Becker @theknightswhosaybook Oct. 26  
@beckybootybun sorry hun looks like you're not @therealkvp's type #parsonslover  
13 183 228  
|  Lady Gaga @ladygaga Oct. 26  
Drinking that supporting @therealkvp juice regardless of who #parsonslover is  
473 3.1k 11k  
  
## Kent  
  
---  
| We should probably talk about this  
| Kent?  
| C'mon bro write back so I know you're alive  
  
  
  
  


|  Jeff Troy @jeffswoopstroy Oct. 27  
I bear the title #parsonslover with the same pride I do #stanleycupchampion.  
18 520 3.5k  
---|---  
  
  
  
  


# Kent's phone, evening October 27

6:23  
---  
Saturday, October 27  
MESSAGE | 1m ago  
Swoops  
Kent I did a thing call me  
Press for more  
MESSAGE | 1m ago  
Zimms  
Kenny, you don't have to go through this alone.  
Press for more  
PHONE | 3m ago  
Zimms  
Missed Call  
PHONE  | 5m ago  
Swoops  
Missed Call  
MESSAGE | 6m ago  
Swoops  
C'mon bro write back so I know you're alive  
Press for more  
PHONE | 6m ago  
PR guy Brett  
Missed Call & Voicemail  
MESSAGE | 8m ago  
Carly  
bro wtf is this  
Press for more  
MESSAGE | 9m ago  
Scraps  
Got your back bro  
Press for more  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. In Which Kent Does Pick Up the Phone

Despite sending the text, Scraps was actually kind of surprised when his phone rang and it was Kent on the other end. He kept his voice gentle. Kent was known to spook.

“Hey, bro. What’s up?” Dumb question. He knew what was up. 

“ _Everything is a mess,_ ” said Kent, somewhat hysterically. 

“Don’t you usually call Jeff when everything’s a mess?” asked Scraps, trying to lighten the mood. Then he realized how that might have sounded. “I mean, I’m glad to talk, bro. I just know I’m not the sharpest tool in your friend shed.”

“Yeah, I do usually call Swoops,” said Kent. “But today, he’s part of the problem. And failing Swoops, if I’m having an anxiety attack like this, I usually call Zimms. But Zimms is also part of the problem today.”

“What?”

Scraps hadn’t actually expected to be talking to Kent at all beyond that one text letting his friend know that Scraps didn’t care if he was into guys.

Damn good thing he sent that, he thought. Kent needed _somebody_ to call whose reaction he’d be sure of. And apparently his go-to friends weren’t pulling their weight.

Zimmermann was gay or something, Scraps knew that. Hell, everyone knew that. The guy came out on center ice with his boyfriend last year. Scraps thought he heard that they broke up at some point after that, but Kent hadn’t talked about it and Zimmermann wasn’t exactly Scraps’ bud. But the point was, Scraps had no clue why Zimmermann would be part of the problem here. Swoops, on the other hand…

“Do I need to talk to Jeff?” he asked sharply. “Is he not okay with this?”

“You haven’t seen then?” said Kent, voice still weird. 

“Seen what, bro?” All Scraps had seen was the article and some shit on Twitter. He’d put his phone aside to focus on real life shit, like watching tape and hitting the gym, hours ago.

“Jeff’s more than okay with it. He’s so okay with it he basically told the world on Twitter that it was him in the photograph. And Zimms did the _same goddamn thing_ on Instagram.”

“Holy _fuck_ ,” said Scraps, and wished for the first time in a very long time that he didn’t have such a potty mouth because he needed a stronger swear word right now. He briefly contemplated breaking out some French Canadian, but decided that would sound stupid on him. 

“ _I know, right?_ ” said Kent. “ _Anyway_ , you’re the only person I know who’s both okay with this and hasn’t _lost his goddamn mind._ So yeah, I’m calling you. Scrappy, man, I have no fucking clue what to do here.” He laughed, but it wasn’t a happy sound. 

“I’m not the plans guy, Parser,” said Scraps. 

“I know, I know,” said Kent. “I just need you to be a damn source of sanity right now, bro. I can’t even begin to think about what I’m going to say when I have to talk to Jeff or Zimms next. What the _fuck._ ”

“Do you want company?” Scraps offered.

“You gonna sit on my couch and express frustration at regular intervals?” said Kent, laughing a little, but it sounded less hysterical and more actually amused. “Yeah, actually, man, that’d be great. Would you?”

“I know I’m just a dumb jock, man,” chirped Scraps. “You don’t have to rub it in with words like ‘regular intervals.’”

Kent laughed again, and it finally sounded real.

 

Having Scraps there did help, actually, which surprised Kent a little. Just having someone in the same room made it feel less like a nightmare he would never wake up from and more like just another PR fiasco.

PR fiasco, Kent knew how to handle. Or at least where to start.

“Parson,” said Brett, picking up the phone on the first ring, “I thought this job couldn’t surprise me anymore. I was not looking for you to prove me wrong.”

“In my defense,” said Kent, “only a third of this is my fault. Actually, I could make a case for less than that, seeing as _I_ was outed by somebody with a phone camera looking to make a buck and a sports publication with no morals. Zimms and Swoops, on the other hand, brought the rest of it down all by themselves with no coercion from me.”

Scraps snorted from the couch, and when Kent looked at him, mouthed, ‘ _coercion_?’ Kent flashed him a grin, then returned his attention to his head of PR.

“So neither of them actually _are_ the man in the photograph?”

Kent blinked. Somehow it hadn’t occurred to him that he was literally the only person, besides the guy it actually was, who could be certain that both of them were lying. 

“No. It was some nameless stranger at the club. Zimms and I haven’t been like that in like six or seven years. And I didn’t even know Jeff was into men. If he is, and that isn’t just another layer to this mess.”

“You don’t know.” It wasn’t a question, but rather an expression of disbelief.

“I called you first,” Kent pointed out. “I’m being the responsible one.”

“Okay.” Brett sighed. “Clearly we need a roundtable discussion here. First thing in the morning, Parson, you’re here, and bring your agent.”

“How first thing in the morning?”

“Five.”

“Jesus Christ. Should I even go to bed.” Brett hung up on him. Kent stared at the phone for a second, then called his agent.

“I’ve been expecting to hear from you,” said Lisa.

“Does no one answer the phone with ‘hello’ anymore, or is that reserved for occasions where three NHL players didn’t just come out online and imply some sort of body-sharing threesome thing going on between them?”

“I realize snark is a coping mechanism for you, Kent,” said Lisa, “but my job just became a lot harder, and I bet so did your PR office’s.”

“Yep, that’s what I’m calling about,” said Kent. “PR’s having a meeting tomorrow, five AM, at the arena.”

“Well, I guess I’m not sleeping tonight,” said Lisa.

“That’s what I said.”

After hanging up with her, he collapsed onto the sofa beside Scraps.

“Do I call them now, before we have a horde of marketing people watching our every move, or do I wait til tomorrow so we can get right down to _what the hell next_?”

“Depends, I s’pose,” said Scraps. “You want to ask them why they did it without anyone watching?”

“I think I know why they did it?” Kent picked at a thread on his sofa. “They were trying to be supportive. Make sure I wasn’t the only one in the spotlight. And they didn’t know the other one was doing it, which is of course what makes the whole thing so much worse. It’s obvious that at least one of them is lying.”

“Or mistaken.”

“Huh?”

“Well, s’pose you took them both to the club that night and made out with both of them? Then maybe they just both thought the picture was of them.”

Kent stared at the wall, floored. “Scrappy, my man,” he said, “I think you might’ve hit on the only possible angle we could take on this that doesn’t land somebody in shit. How averse are you to getting up early enough to come to this meeting with us?”

 

“Fake dating,” said Jeff dumbly to no one in particular. He had sort of signed up for that, okay, but not with _Jack Zimmermann_ involved.

They were using the biggest conference room the Aces had, with him and Kent, every single PR staff member, their coaches, the owner, his agent, Kent’s agent, the GM and assistant GMs, and for some reason Scraps. Not to mention the videoconference projected onto the back wall, displaying the Falcs equivalents of all of them like some sort of fucked up Through the Looking Glass bullshit.

And somehow, all of these people were more or less in agreement that the only way forward without ruining everyone’s reputation was for Jeff and Kent to pretend to be in a committed, but open, relationship for the foreseeable future. Zimmermann had tried to raise objections over how neither of them had flat-out _said_ anything that wasn’t true, and couldn’t one or both of them be written off as misinterpretation, but apparently the internet was already going so crazy over it that any such attempt would look like papering over.

Zimmermann wasn’t pleased at being written into the scenario as the extra, either, and had tried to suggest that they say they were in a committed polyamorous relationship instead, but noooo, open relationship was more socially acceptable than committed threesomes these days. Jeff thought he heard somebody mutter about polyphobia or something, but nobody was listening. 

The oddest thing about it all was that nobody had asked him or Zimmermann _why_ they’d done it, or if they really were the guy in the photograph, and nobody had asked Kent who it was. It made something of a disturbing point about how much they cared about the bottom line. 

And then Aces PR announced they wanted to film their statements _now_ , get ahead of the other news outlets. So the first time Jeff talked about the whole thing with Kent, they were standing in front of a camera telling lies.

“We’ve been together for a while,” Kent told them. “Almost a year. And we were trying to keep it quiet. But then someone photographed us.”

“And where does Jack Zimmermann enter into it?” asked the PR lackey. That was Jeff’s cue.

“We love each other,” he started, smiling stiffly, “but that doesn’t mean it isn’t fun to bring other people in every once in a while. Everyone was fully aware and consenting to the situation. Honestly it could have been either of us in that photograph. The lighting’s so bad, and Kent has something of a type.”

“Hey,” said Kent, mock glaring at him.

“You do,” Jeff told him, smirking. 

“So all three of you were at the club, in…that position,” said the PR lackey. Jeff felt bad for her.

“Yes,” said Kent.

“Can you elaborate on your thought process when you made that tweet, Jeff?” she asked.

“We hadn’t planned to tell the world,” said Jeff, “but after that photo was posted, what was the point?”

“Your identity was still safe, though,” the girl pointed out.

“I didn’t want Kent to face the media storm by himself,” said Jeff, and was ridiculously relieved to finally say something that was completely, 100% true. 

When the interview was over, they were left alone together for the first time since this whole thing had started, and Jeff couldn’t look Kent in the eyes.

“Somewhere, the guy I was _actually_ with is staring at his television screen going _what the actual fuck_ and having a story no one is ever going to believe,” said Kent wryly.

“I still think we could’ve made it work with Zimmermann just wanting to support you and not having been at the club at all,” Jeff said, trying to keep his voice light.

“Maybe.” Kent sounded pensive. “That might have worked. We were all panicking a little, I think. I don’t know that they’d buy that Jack just threw himself out there selflessly if there wasn’t some truth to it.”

“Even though that’s exactly what he did.”

“Yeah. You’d still get conspiracy theories about how he must be secretly in love with me. Same for you.”

The bottom of Jeff’s stomach dropped out, and he could almost hear Kent finishing the thought with an angry, accusatory, _**Are** you secretly in love with me?_

Instead, Kent just said, “Whatever. It’s done now,” and walked away, leaving Jeff feeling like he’d been all set to walk the plank and his executioner had just gone to take a phone call.

They had practice later that day, because of course they did, the world could have been ending and they still would have had practice. Kent gathered the team in the locker room with Brett the PR guy and their coaches, and made sure the doors were shut.

“Assuming none of you are living under a rock, you’ll have seen at least some part of the bullshit that’s gone down over the last fourteen or so hours,” he said, pacing around the room and addressing all of them in his most no-nonsense Captain voice. “In summary: Somebody took a picture of me and some random guy making out at a bar, sold it to Deadspin, and outed me to the world. Yes, I’m gay, I’ve always been gay, I’ve never looked at any of you in the locker room, I don’t get turned on in celly hugs, any more stupid questions about that?”

Tenner raised his hand. Kent pointed at him. “Are you and Swoops actually a thing?” Jeff felt hot and cold all over.

“I’m getting to that,” said Kent. “Swoops and Jack Zimmermann both selflessly implied to the internet that it was them in the picture. It isn’t true in either case. I’m not dating either of them, and I never have—well.” He caught himself. “That isn’t true. I’ll admit the gossip about me and Zimms back in Juniors was accurate.” There was some hooting, and he cracked a grin and raised his voice to continue speaking. “ _In Juniors._ There’s been nothing between us since then. PR has elected to tell the world differently so they don’t have to paint any of their star players as liars or look like they’re papering over a secret relationship. Giving them a story outright makes them less likely to dig for something, and more likely the whole thing will be yesterday’s news sooner rather than later.” There was some nodding.

“This is probably a dumb question,” said Lungs, “but that means we don’t tell anyone that you’re not actually together, right?”

“Right, thank you, Lungs,” said Kent. “Got to be clear about that. This doesn’t leave this room. No gossiping with other players, or your girlfriends. If you have some kind of strict rule about lying to your wives, you can tell them, but swear them to secrecy. If this gets out to the news, there’ll be hell to pay on all sides. Certain members of management would prefer Jeff and I kept up the story here, too, but I won with the argument that the damage a fake relationship would do to team cohesion was worth the thirty more people in on the secret. Don’t make me regret that decision.”

“We’ve got your back, Cap!” called Sponge, and was echoed around the room. 

“Thanks, guys,” said Kent, and his smile was soft and relieved. “All right. Things I am not going to tolerate: Weird homophobic jokes and comments to or about me or Jeff. Or Jack, for that matter. I’m your captain, and I can’t be spending my energy wondering what’s a thinly veiled barb and what’s you boys just being your normal asshole selves, so I’m going to treat it all as serious. Also, there will be no interrogating Jeff over this. He’s been throwing himself under the bus for me this whole time, and he doesn’t need to be fielding a million questions about it. Try not to be weird about this, okay, assholes? PR is probably going to give you all a debriefing on what to say when the media inevitably asks you what it’s like having a gay captain, or a captain dating a teammate, very soon. Just remember nothing’s actually different, except now you know, and also we’re lying to the world.” A smattering of laughter. “Kay, that’s all I’ve got. Get out there and do your goddamn jobs.”

Jeff couldn’t breathe. All the shit he was handling, and it had occurred to Parse to tell the guys not to quiz him about it. Which perhaps ordinarily would have annoyed him, like he couldn’t handle it, but right now he really couldn’t handle it. He still didn’t have an answer to _why’d you do it_ that convinced _him_ , even if it apparently did Kent. His line about _secretly in love with me_ hadn’t stopped spinning in Jeff’s brain, and how was it Kent hadn’t figured out Jeff had feelings for him? Or had he, and that was why he hadn’t asked about it, because he didn’t want to have to let Jeff down gently?

“Hey, man. You holding up okay?” Octopus, the goalie, had plopped down next to Jeff. 

“No,” said Jeff honestly, because Octopus wouldn’t chirp him for it. Octopus patted him hard on the back, then left his hand there, a comforting weight.

“Take a deep breath, man. This too shall pass.”

Jeff snorted.

“Hey, it might pass like a kidney stone, but it’ll fuckin’ pass,” Octopus told him, and finally Jeff laughed for real, breathed deep, and let some of the tension flow out of him. 

 

The Falcs didn’t have Zimmermann do a video interview, which was, in Jeff’s opinion, the right decision several times over. It would’ve taken an excellent actor to pull off Zimmermann’s part in this both convincingly and sympathetically, and Zimmermann was no actor at all. 

_Now that I think about it, it could easily have been either of us in the photo,_ read the article. _But Kent and I are both out, and Jeff wasn’t. All I was thinking was that I could admit it was me and support Kent, and we could still keep Jeff from being outed._

They both admitted freely that they hadn’t realized the other was making a statement, based on the close timing and the fact that Jeff didn’t have an Instagram, while Jack barely used his Twitter. That was the easiest part, as it was actually true.

No, what was eating Jeff alive was waiting for Kent’s confrontation. And it just didn’t come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "pass like a kidney stone" is from [this tumblr post](http://itsagifnotagif.com/post/182858354647/thingsididntknowwereerotic-techno-gal)


	3. In Which Kent Insists on Actual Face-to-Face Conversation

Weeks passed. They started a week-long roadie, and as usual, Jeff and Kent were roommates, but nothing had changed. Kent never brought it up first. The guys who were woke enough to know the difference between chirps and homophobia made the occasional crack about it, and he gave back as good as he got, but they never had a real conversation about it. Jeff started to think there wasn’t another shoe to drop. 

Then they flew to Providence.

Kent couldn’t _not_ visit Jack. They usually grabbed a drink or something after games these days, ever since they’d made up, and now it would just make things weird. Besides, Kent felt like they needed to clear the air. 

Then RJ, one of the PR folks, pulled him aside and told him in no uncertain terms that she would throttle him and hang his corpse to dry if he let himself get photographed with Jack.

“What if I brought Jeff?” Kent tried.

RJ glared nuclear bombs. “If Jeff’s there, gossip says you’re planning a repeat threesome. If Jeff’s not there, gossip says you’re cheating on him. The sports reporters _will_ be tailing you, desperate for the story. Don’t give it to them, or I will end you.”

Kent put his hands up. “Okay. Maybe we can meet at his place.”

He had underestimated the amount of reporters outside the rink.

“Kent! How do you feel about facing Jack Zimmermann on the ice today?”

“Kent! Are you and Jack planning a repeat club night?”

“Jeff! How do you feel about Kent facing Jack Zimmermann tonight?”

“This is the first time the league will have three openly gay players on the ice at the same time. Any comment?”

He kept his eyes ahead, grabbed Jeff’s arm to make sure he didn’t stop either, and moved forward until the doors shut behind them. 

It wasn’t looking good for his ability to leave with Jack tonight.

The Falcs won, 5-4. The locker room wasn’t any more subdued than it usually was after a loss—the guys knew they’d done their best, and it was just luck that got one more of the Falcs’ shots past Octopus than they got past Snowy. It happened. You had to move on. Kent was tapped for media at both breaks and after the game, which he privately thought was unfair, but he was ready for the press’s questions now, and gave them PR-approved answers.

He ran into Jack in the hallway after showering and changing back into his game day suit. Jack had clearly just come from the same, hair dripping slightly onto his jacket. 

“Hey. Good game,” he said.

“Same,” agreed Kent. “Hey, I know we always do the drinks thing, but…”

“There’s no way we’ll get any privacy if we go out those doors together,” Jack agreed. “Leave separately and meet up later?” He looked like he didn’t really expect that to work even as Kent shook his head.

“I think my PR folks will actually murder me. I promised I wouldn’t let us get photographed together. I was hoping to catch a ride back to your place, but…” He waved a hand at the doors. 

“What if I snuck onto the bus with you guys?” Jack suggested.

“That could work,” Kent agreed. 

None of the reporters noticed that the Aces had one too many players as they filed out toward their bus, nor that one of them somehow still needed to towel his hair off in such a way as to obscure his face. They may or may not have noticed that Jack didn’t drive his car away, but Kent wouldn’t know.

“Guys, we got an intruder!” joked Picard. Jack laughed.

“I’m sorry for any trouble I’ve caused you,” he said to the bus at large, winning himself instant brownie points. 

“Aw, Zimms, you softie,” Kent said. 

They kept conversation light—the chances the Oilers had this season, the weather, whose fans were more obnoxious—throughout the bus ride, and then Kent took Jack up to his room. Jeff hovered at the door.

“I’m not kicking you out,” Kent told him, keying open the door and walking in. Zimms and Jeff followed. Kent sprawled on his bed. Jeff did likewise. Jack pulled over the desk chair.

They sat in silence.

“Well, fuck, this is awkward,” said Kent finally, hoping to break the tension. Jack laughed a little.

“And we didn’t even get an actual threesome out of it.”

Kent felt his face go red. Jeff made a sort of squeaking noise.

“I never meant to drag you into this,” Kent said, the need to apologize finally winning out. “I know you got yourselves into this mess, but I’m still sorry.”

“Clearly we both think you’re worth it,” said Jack, smiling crookedly at him. And then, before Kent could find a response to that, “You’re not actually together, right? I thought you were when I first saw your Twitter, but then at the PR conference they made it sound like you weren’t.”

“No, you both had the same idea,” said Kent. He sighed. “I do appreciate it. Both of you. I never actually said that, but it means a lot. That you care that much.”

 

_Of course I care that much,_ Jeff wanted to shout, but the words were stuck in his sinuses or something. He couldn’t take his eyes off Zimmermann. The obvious fondness there made his heart hurt. 

_You’d still get conspiracy theories about how he’s secretly in love with me,_ Kent had said, and Jeff could see why, because why _would_ you do a thing like that unless you had feelings for him?

Jeff supposed it was possible that he just couldn’t see any other rationale for it because it was his.

“ _God._ Why is this so bad? I told myself it wouldn’t be this bad,” said Kent. “I feel like I’m sitting here with two suitors or some shit. I want chocolate. Break the ice while I’m gone, will you?” And he stood up and walked out the door.

Jeff and Zimmerman didn’t look at each other.

Finally, Jeff blurted, “Are you secretly in love with him?”

Zimmermann flushed visibly in his peripheral. “…I don’t know,” he said eventually. “I care about him a lot. I don’t know if I have feelings for him _again_ or _still_ or somehow both, and I don’t know if I can call it love yet.”

It hit like an elbow to the gut.

“What about you?” Zimmermann asked.

And that was like the ice had fallen out from under him.

“Yeah,” Jeff admitted. “Or I’m getting there.”

“You probably have a shot, you know,” said Zimmermann. “You were right when you said he has a type. And you’re right there, on his team.”

That got Jeff to look at him. Zimmermann’s eyes were an unfair, piercing blue and they saw more of him than he wanted to know.

“You’re his first love,” he said. 

“I’m on the other side of the country,” said Zimmermann.

The answer was obvious. They needed Kent to decide. To pick. If he even wanted anything with either of them.

“I really don’t want to watch him choose you,” Jeff admitted. 

“I don’t think it’s fair to ask him when we’re both sitting here watching,” said Jack. “Fair to any of us, really.”

 

Kent keyed open the door, unopened chocolate bar in hand. He was too nervous to eat; it had mostly been an excuse to get out of the room for a little. 

The room was empty.

“What the actual fuck,” he said aloud, moving inside and letting the door shut behind him. A piece of paper on the bed caught his eye, and he practically leapt over to grab it.

_We got to talking,_ it said in Jack’s handwriting, _and we both have feelings for you._ Kent felt as if he’d swallowed a hot coal. _We didn’t want to ask you to choose (or to turn us both down) in front of both of us. So Jack is going to go sit in the business lounge, and Jeff is going to drop in on Octopus. You can call one of us if you want us to come back here, or just come find us. Sincerely, Jack and Jeff._

 

Scraps was playing Angry Birds on his phone when it rang, and the caller ID said Kent.

“What’s up?” he answered it. 

He got a dramatic groan in response. “Come over here, Scrappy? I can’t do this alone.”

“Do what alone?” said Scraps, standing up and hunting for his room key. 

“It’ll be easier to just show you. Room 234.”

Two minutes later, Scraps was reading the least passionate declaration of love he’d ever seen.

“Why are you asking me?” he pointed out. “Only you know who you wanna date.”

“They were both supposed to be pipe dreams!” said Kent, from his position sprawled out on the nearest bed with his arm flung over his eyes. “I never dared hope either of them might be interested. I was making out with a tall, dark-haired guy in a bar trying to get _over_ them, not _create a love triangle._ ”

“So you’d date both of ‘em?” That was an interesting solution.

“I mean, yeah.”

“So do it.”

That got Kent to look at him. “Do what? Who do I pick? How can I turn either of them down and then have to try to be friends with them after that?”

“Date both of ‘em,” said Scraps again. “They’re interested in you. You’re interested in them. If you want to date them, date them.”

Kent blinked rapidly and made an O with his mouth.

“…D’you think they’d be okay with that?” he came out with at last.

Scraps shrugged. “Ask ‘em.”

“And if they say no?”

“Then you’re back where you started, no worse off.”

“Except that now they both know I’m interested, so I can’t let either of them down gently.”

That was true. Scraps hadn’t thought of that. He pondered it carefully.

“One of them might not want to try, knowing you have feelings for the other one. So that would solve it for you. And if you’re nice about it, honesty generally works out better in the long run, even if it makes for some hurt feelings in the meantime.”

“Scraps, I’m never making life decisions without you again,” said Kent. He sat up so fast Scraps wondered that he didn’t look dizzy. “So now what? How do we tell them?”

“We nothing,” said Scraps. “I’ll back you up, but you gotta do the talking.”

“Fair,” said Kent. 

“They say to call them?”

“No, fuck that. I’m not doing this over the phone. Here’s what we’re going to do.”

 

Kent drank down most of a bottle of water from the minifridge while he waited, reading over the letter again. He ate a square of chocolate, but it was so difficult to swallow he gave up on the rest.

Voices outside his door. Something indistinguishable from Jack, and “No, we’re waiting,” from Scraps, and then clearly “For what?” from Jack again.

Another perhaps thirty seconds passed, and then the lock beeped and Scraps and Octopus pushed Jack and Jeff in.

“Thanks, boys,” said Kent. Scraps tossed him a Boy Scout salute and a goofy smile, and Octopus just grinned at him. Kent appreciated that, as he hadn’t explained anything to Octopus, just asked him to bring Jeff, and Octopus had agreed without questions. Course, if there was anybody you could ask to join in on a scheme for extra Drama, explain nothing, and still have them go along with it, it was a goalie. “You may be wondering why I’ve summoned you here today,” he said as Octopus and Scraps let the door shut, leaving him alone with his suitors. He heard the goalie snort a laugh.

“Uhh, kinda,” said Jeff. Both of them looked very nervous. Kent decided not to draw it out.

“I like you both,” he said plainly. “I want to date both of you, if you’re okay with that.”

Jack’s face lit up. Jeff’s scrunched in confusion. “Is that a thing?”

“Polyamory,” breathed Jack. “It is. I had friends in college who recently ended up in a polycule.”

“A what?”

“Like molecule? Distinct atoms all together, with their own unique bonds between each of them, right? Only, polycule.”

“Nerd,” said Kent fondly. “But yeah. I date both of you. You both date me. You can date each other, or not, whatever. And as long as we’re totally honest with each other, it could be really good.”

“Wouldn’t we get jealous?” said Jeff, looking at Jack, who answered.

“I mean, maybe? But the important thing is we talk about it, and we try to figure out ways to make everyone feel important and cared for, and if they aren’t working, we try something else.”

“So you want to?” said Kent, looking at Jack, who was positively beaming.

“Yeah,” said Jack softly, and Kent could have sworn he was the moon and stars the way Jack was looking at him. “I do.”

“I feel like I’m going to screw it up a lot,” said Jeff, “but if you’re willing to put up with that, I want to try.”

“Okay,” said Kent, amazed that his voice wasn’t shaking for how full his chest felt. “Somebody come over here and kiss me.”

They moved toward him as if yanked forward by strings, stumbling over the carpet and ending up one on either side of him. They looked at each other.

“Go ahead,” said Jack. Jeff wrapped a hand around Kent’s cheek, and Kent felt his breath stop right before their lips met. Jeff kissed like he wasn’t sure what he was doing, if he was really here, if this was really Kent in front of him, and Kent kissed him back, trying to say _yes, it’s me,_ without words. 

Jeff broke the kiss when he couldn’t keep from smiling anymore, and pulled back to gaze into Kent’s eyes, his own crinkled at the corners, bleeding hope and joy everywhere. Kent couldn’t help but smile back at him.

“Hi,” he said quietly.

“Hi,” said Jeff. Then, “Jack’s waiting patiently.” Kent turned and there was Jack, and he barely had time to catch his breath before Jack was kissing him, and this, this was like coming home.

It wasn’t exactly the same as Kent remembered; they were older by more than a few years and more experienced, but Jack tasted the same. 

He jumped when he felt lips on his neck, and Jack broke away and beamed at him again.

“Sorry,” said Jeff. “Is this okay?”

“That’s definitely okay,” said Kent, licking his lips to wet them. “Anybody feel like having that threesome we told the media we had?”

Jack let out a groan and Jeff let his head thunk down on Kent’s shoulder.

“You’re gonna kill us, Kenny,” said Jack.

“I need words, boys,” Kent pointed out, and got a hissed “ _Yes,_ ” from both of them before Jack was on his lips and Jeff on his neck again.

“No visible marks,” Jeff reminded them. Jack broke off and slid his hands up under Kent’s shirt.

“Yeah, if any of us get photographed with hickies, especially together, RJ is gonna put my head on a pole,” said Kent, and broke off because Jack was pulling his shirt over his head. When it popped free of his hair, he finished, “But below the neckline is fine.”

Jack pushed him gently backward onto the bed and started covering his chest with kisses, some light and some wet, while Jeff leaned over and claimed his lips again, licking deep into his mouth and sucking on his tongue, which made Kent’s dick twitch. He was still curved backwards, though, feet on the floor and head on the bed, so when Jeff came up for air, he gasped, “Can we get all the way on the bed?” 

They took a moment to figure out logistics, since the bed had not been intended for three hockey players even if one of them _was_ only 5’10”, and at Kent’s suggestion, Jack and Jeff took the opportunity to pull their shirts off.

“I wonder if you can sixty-nine with three people,” Jack said mischievously, eyes twinkling. Kent choked on nothing. 

“We’ll have to do this on a king bed sometime and find out,” panted Jeff, and smirked when Kent reached over and unbuttoned his pants. When he looked back over, he blinked to find Jack down to his briefs. 

“Come here?” he asked them both, feeling a sudden need to be skin to skin. Jack laid down beside him, stroking a cowlick out of Kent’s eyes, and he felt Jeff plaster up against his other side.

“Like this?” 

“More?” he asked, feeling acutely embarrassed, but still not touched enough.

“How do you want us?” asked Jack.

“Maybe…um, could you sort of sit up and sandwich me?”

It took some maneuvering, but eventually they ended up with Jack and Jeff kneeling facing each other on the bed, and Kent kneeling between them, legs poking between Jeff’s. Kent had taken the opportunity to grab the lube, holding his head high despite the chirps. He had one solid, warm body in front of him and one behind him, and he had never felt so cherished. 

Jeff’s dick was pressed against his crack, and he was making little, involuntary thrusting motions. 

“Can I just,” he gasped, “…this?”

“Can you get between my thighs?” panted Kent, and heard a snap as Jeff uncapped the lube. Jack took the opportunity to kiss him, and Kent lost himself in it even as he felt himself being lifted by the hips, Jeff’s slick cock sliding between his legs and brushing against his perineum and balls. He gasped into Jack’s mouth, trying to squeeze his legs together, and Jeff gasped in his ear, pressing himself up against Kent’s back and thrusting with a purpose now. Jack pulled away and snagged the lube.

“Can I jerk us off together?” he asked, chest heaving, and, at Kent’s nod, dumped a generous amount of lube into his hand and wrapped it around both their cocks. Jeff dropped a kiss onto Kent’s shoulder and bit him gently. 

“ _God,_ ” Kent ground out. They didn’t quite have a rhythm between the three of them, and it was threatening to knock them all off balance until Jack shifted enough to brace one foot on the ground and wrapped one giant arm around all three of them to rest on Jeff’s back. Kent twisted back around for a kiss and got it, although they were both panting so hard it wasn’t much. 

With Jack’s hand on his dick and Jeff’s cock between his thighs, it wasn’t long before Kent’s orgasm started building. “I’m close,” he panted. “Harder?”

Jack’s grip got firmer and Jeff’s thrusts got faster, and Kent forgot to breathe as he crested and came, hard. 

He was quiet when he came, always was, after spending his formative sex life making sure his billet family couldn’t hear him and Jack, but when he opened his eyes, little flashes of light were dancing in quick arcs across his field of vision.

“I’m literally seeing stars,” he gasped dazedly. “I thought that was a figure of speech.”

“Help me lay him down?” said Jack to Jeff, and together they maneuvered a boneless Kent onto the bed. By then the stars were gone, and Kent was present enough to enjoy the little ‘what now’ looks Jack and Jeff were shooting each other.

“You should kiss,” he suggested. The double takes were comical. The shy look from under Jeff’s lashes was adorable.

“You wanna?” he asked softly.

“Yeah,” said Jack, equally softly.

 

Jeff was kissing Jack Zimmermann.

This was not an outcome he had ever remotely expected from this day.

It was kind of weird kissing somebody who was already hot and panting, when Jeff hadn’t been the one to get him there, but it grew on him quickly.

“Can I finish you off?” he murmured between Jack’s lips, and savored the tiny gasp and the fervent nod. He reached blindly forward for Jack’s dick, found it overly dry, and pulled away to search for the lube again. He squirted some into his own hand and passed it to Jack, who did likewise. And then, slowly, tentatively, they took hold of one another.

“Holy fuck,” said Kent, sounding more present. “That’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.” As much as Jeff liked putting on a show for Kent, though, his legs were starting to shake.

“Can we lie down?” he muttered.

“Yeah,” said Jack, and took his hand away to ease himself down onto the bed. Jeff scooted down the bed to line up with him, and Kent wriggled out of their way. 

It had been Jeff’s tentative plan for them to lie on their sides, facing each other, but now that he was on his back, he was too damn tired. This was probably better for Jack’s arm, anyways, he thought, as Jack’s hand came down on his dick.

Once he figured out how not to elbow Jack in the gut and Jack figured out how to get any leverage at all, it didn’t take them long to get back into a rhythm. Jeff closed his eyes and reveled in the feeling of a large, callused hand on his dick, pulling faster and tighter, and his own hand started to lag as he tipped over the edge.

He didn’t see stars or anything, but it was a pretty good orgasm.

When he came down, he found his right hand pressing into Jack’s stomach, and he resumed his task, watching as _Bad Bob Junior_ closed his eyes, screwed up his face, and came on Jeff’s hand.

“That was so hot,” said Kent after a second. Jeff laughed tiredly.

“We should clean up,” he offered, but made no move to stand.

“That’s a problem for Future Kent,” said Kent decisively. “Present Kent doesn’t have any fucks left and wants to take a nap with his boyfriends.”

“You’re obnoxious,” muttered Jack.

“Ah, you love me,” mumbled Kent, and flopped bodily across them. Jeff closed his eyes and slept.


	4. In Which Kent Sends an Email

To: pr@lvaces.net, ghart@lvaces.net, hbeath@lvaces.net, team@lvaces.net, pr@falconers.com, gmartin@falconers.com, olittle@falconers.com, gmyers@falconers.com, players@falconers.com

From: kparson@lvaces.net

Subject: Heads up.

Jeff Troy, Jack Zimmermann, and I are legit in a relationship, all three of us.  
Peace out.  
KVP

Sent from my iPhone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RiotKid, about this chapter: Kent sent it from his computer and just typed out 'Sent from my iPhone'  
> You decide.
> 
> Also: It is totally possible to literally see stars after sex. I am not going to explain how I know this.


End file.
